| You slide the key into the lock and turn, and the padlock swings free easily. Pushing open the door you find a long, narrow storage room, made even narrower by the tall shelves lining the walls. The shelves contain bedsheets, spare pitchers and basins, cleaning rags and buckets, door bars, and a few other odds and ends. One of the buckets and rags is sitting in the middle of the floor, the soapy water gone cold. There is a single window on the other side of the room. From where you stand you can see dark marks on the window. Around the bucket, also, are dark stains, probably old blood. The pattern of the blood is strange, though, like there had been a pile of cloth on top of it. Looking closer, the stains aren't pure. You notice smears of something black and oily looking mixed in some of the stains, especially those handprints on the windowsill. Just as you're turning to leave, you notice a short throwing knife, half hidden under one of the shelves. The hilt is inlaid with the picture of a silver cat. The blade is crusted with dry blood, and glints with the same black, oily substance. Back to the Hallway. |